Long Stereotype Poems

Long Stereotype Poems. Below are the most popular long Stereotype by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stereotype poems by poem length and keyword.


To be black

To be black
Is to constantly run
Maybe that's why they stereotype
Saying we are fast 
Speaking of fast 
That's what they say when a black girl has a nice ass
Because being black and being a woman
Means that it's our fault
And we deserve it 

To be black 
Is to constantly fight back 
With the hope we won't be attacked 
Funny how we are the aggressors 
But when we look at history 
They kill us for being
For existing
For having the audacity to exist
To breathe the same air they do
Which is why they probably put their knees on our necks
As they take away our breath
Saying we cause them stress
While they suffocate our heads with the hatred they spread 

To be black
Is to be punished 
For our own deaths 
Where we are murdered 
And they are praised 
For a life they took away
All in the name
Of wanting to keep the world safe 
From people who wanted peace
And were met with a gunshot
If we dared to speak
To break the silence
That they've spent years trying to instill into our internal systems
Until there's nothing left 
But to accept
That to be black
Is to forever be quiet


Mirror Me

The mirror doesn't reflect who you are
It paints a picture of what the mind sees
As men we all have goals but 
With the right woman we have dreams 
Time Traveling with wings 
Made from the waves 
of her heartbeat
Before a man finds himself
He looks in the mirror to climb the mountain
Questions for hills 
The rock hard Stereotype 
Has become a personality type 
Masking the seed of growth
The mirror that only talks with a reflection lies 
A mirror conversates with possibilities
Conversing with myself I learned
A man is strongest when sipping vulnerability 
Chocolate conversations with her
Opened up capabilities 
Dreams go from flight to walking 
Talking about her unique affinities 
Her gorgeous is the icing
Men aren’t scared of love 
They’re afraid to open up
Because before a man finds himself 
He finds hell then digs under it to his grave
Where he buries everything he wants to protect
With, I’ll just do it myself
Until the day he sees himself not as rejection 
But a reflection of God 
Meaning impossible is nothing
Aligned with God a man finds a good thing
Now the mirror is her eyes and in them he sees
Safety, with her hand on the key
He's climbed from hell to heaven
Peace pours from her presence
She cradles everything rocky 
Now we're whispering about a baby
She knows she can be the last straw 
So she builds with bricks
By brick she turns a home into a palace
Men aren’t scared to be soft 
They're scared to give access to their clouds 
Because not everyone can handle the rain
Men don’t want a cheerleader 
They need a straight shooter 
Imagine if Bonnie linked up with Peter 
Contrary to belief men don’t want it all
The want one to have it all with 
Anyone who says the other is still reflecting 
Looking in her eyes I’m reflecting 
I’d go to war for you
I’d lose for you
I’d grow for you
I’d knock down my walls for you 
So we could refurbish a heart
That bloomed from a rose
Because roses see both sides 
Then the two become one
Team over identity plants legacy
We ride together and not even death
could take that away
I’d let go of me if it meant protecting you 
p.s. I love seeing you when I look in the mirror…

My Individuality


We created this stereotype,

About identities and sexuality.

Can't you see, that's private to me.

Sex is a Sacred unity, combining you and me.

Spiritually sharing our energy,

In secrecy, only GOD can see.

Think it matters you approve of my identity,

Or that you gave a month for all to see.

Like they should be looked at differently.


Its a reality lived daily by so many,

And to parade around sexuality seems silly,

Adding confusion to our identity.

And why?

So we can stand pridefully,

In our broken society.

While so many go hungry,

We keep on selfishly.

"Hey you! Look at Me!"

Let me flash my personality.

Don't worry about homeless Harry,

He's scary, he may hurt me,

Not my responsibility.

Where's the Morality?

Who cares about identity or sexuality,

The world is falling from our feet.

A distraction so discrete, so full of deceit,

Cant you see?

The labels dividing you and me.

Bringing chaos to society.

Watching the news, to see a robbery,

Or a dead body, wars in other countries,

Only to comfort our own insecurities.


Blinded by the part we play,

As the FEAR keeps you at bay.

Who cares if You're Gay,

Or want to experiment someday.

Identify as a food tray,

That'll drive them away.

Lets take a stance,

Give this world a chance.

Go out, Make a difference.

We dance around identity.

While they rob our connectivity,

Confusing who we truly see.

Not The ONE we're here to be,

Staring back through you and me.

Through love unconditionally,

We will finally see,

The greatness in Humanity.

Escape your captivity,

Of how people think of thee,

We are all here collectively.


FEAR and HATE being thrown in our face,

Over running our LOVE and GRACE.

We're all stuck in this Rat Race,

A slave to its pace.

Unaware, The treasure that awaits,

When we can drop the labels,

And live together as a RACE.

Let's take a month of AWARENESS,

and put it in it's place.

It's a disgrace,

Throwing sexuality in our face.

Sincerely,

The ENERGY, running through you and me.
Form: Rhyme

My Dark Side

the face on show reveals an issue
I see you looking I see I pissed you
pick your choosing which insult to use
insight you're amusing I see through you
think you've found my insecurity
stand assuredly sure of me
but you're not in my shoes
I can horribly horror thee
tear torsos from talk shoo
you speak your body language alludes 
letting loose clues I can flip and abuse
same time I elude your bullet bully
I fight I sully til your pants soil
cus I'm a King accepting toil
scope on your weakness locked in to spoil
crack your shell cook you a la Royal
I've been bullied singled out and embarrassed 
the bar's set high
I've learnt I've no one but I 
I've been made look stupid 
isolated and cry
my red face my fear dread pointed at
nasty things said
tested dyslexic selected
autism bipolar personality disorder
never test positive but not normal
left handed right armed club foot
stood up straight when hit in the gut
I aint a stereotype cliche or a label buster
stapled my head up by a knuckle duster
pain what pain I love it I lust
been lonely with no friend they rushed
I was unknowing to friendship never mend
still I've got balls to drive you around bends
yeah devil level upheaval I'm lethal
the illegal drug and a piercing needle
I can see through your eyes ears and cheek dimples
you assume I'm vacant minded simple
hampered with anger ample angles I can't handle
but you're like all the other people
leap frog forth and fall in to my hole of evil
my psyche unlocks the locked inside
oh I see inside I sight you sly
you picked on a puppet now to gut you of pride 
you wanna go blow high and low
with a child of psychology psycho 
possibly to test positive probably
you a side act cut from the show
my head weird inside it be it be beyond thee
I learnt young applied acquired skills easy
but think I'm denied a focus capability
can take me down and see the end of me 
and with that they laugh and you mentally bleed
you mistook my fools field you can't fall what killed
mind games mate I've majestic ill
you don't even know what happened
I come back again til it end, friend.
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Cousin Tallie

My cousin Tallie
was a real-life
award winning
beauty queen
from age six to eighteen

The kind who seems
a cardboard cut-out
Southern stereotype
all big hair and hype
manicured nails and
well arranged...
assets
but in reality
there was much more to Tallie

Her favorite movie
was Fried Green Tomatoes
and as far as movies go
it was good
but I never understood
until much later
why she loved it so

At first I thought
she was obsessed with the dish
she just 'had to try' fried green tomatoes
with fried catfish...
But it was actually
more about “Towanda!”
the primal, female battle-cry
 
And there was something electrifying
heartbreaking and mystifying
in the way she had the nerve to
let loose
a hullabaloo
screaming “Towanda!”
without reserve
fully, freely
like a woman
on the very edge
with nothing left to lose
and that was true

Tallie'd been abused
but somehow
nobody chose to see that part
that she actually had
had a heart
that someone had torn apart
Now Tallie's a badass
with blue-green hair
and a hard edged manner
devil-may-care
she has a tattoo
for each person she held dear
far and near
dead and gone
and no one knows why
she's evasive, withdrawn
as they spew out their judgments
in-between their
slow Southern
matter-of-fact yawns

With all the details noticed
while picking her to pieces
how did they miss the moment
her innocence was taken
faith in mankind shaken
How the barefoot, crazy-haired Tallie
running free, suddenly
stopped entirely, sparkle gone
certain sadness in dark eyes
and full-grown
this woman appeared
world-wise

And while they wonder
who the father of her
latest offspring could be
I wonder where the
adorably incorrigible
little Tallie is-
that used to be


The 'angry Black woman'

The ‘angry black woman’,
Is me -
We can agree to agree,
Because u see,
I am proud to be - a black woman who is angry
When I see me, I see a fiery spirit,
A passionate girl with nothing to lose -
Except my sanity,
To be happy,
I must be -
The black woman who is angry

Everyday is a battle of strength,
And by the end of the day there is nothing left to give ,
Because to be black is to exist - not live ,
To hide your emotions  -
To clench your fist -
To resist,
The urge to scream, to cause havoc 
So yes i’m angry - and no i’m not ignorant,
I am just sick and tired of holding it in -
Of pleading my case,
Giving evidence,
And yet after all this -
Still be treated like a mental patient,
Labelled as the ‘angry black woman’
The stereotype -
They label as a disease -
One that takes our right to speak -
To have free speech,
So yes i’m an angry black woman -
And no,
That doesn’t make me crazy

To be an angry black woman,
Is to -
Reclaim the narrative,
Of the right to speak -
On the issues,
You claim -
To be -
Non existent,
I am an angry black woman -
Because I care about my people

Pip Pip Hurray

Sending the tending to an unfriended ending,
 yet somehow suspending from rending a newly offending recommending.
Logotype monotype linotype,
overripe stereotype,
 teletyped an unripe heliotype. 
Guttersnipe snipe,
 stipe snipe ripe,
 a wipe type a tripe, 
unleash a withering hype. 


Dip snip,
nip lip,
slip skip,
rip the apple pip
over a battleship Chip.
Clip,
airstrip,
blip,
scrip,
gyp,
flip,
dip.


Unsip, blue clip,
A warship, weathering stick. 
To miche an itch,
to stitch a witch.
Rich a quitch,
Hitch a flitch.
Gabrilowitsch,
the grand son of a *****!
Pitched a ditch to flitch a niche.
Made a rich hitch lich.


The Thia tie thy tried to untie an unshy,
Spied a sny sty,
He ascribed a bribe tribe,
to dib drib, lib and sib.


A death pale,
dwaled and engrailed,
enjailed and bewailed.
The cocktale turned into a,
ginger ale stale.
A hobnail.
A pale kale.
The whale waled
a veil of wail.
The stale air,
railed the quailing sale.
Dipped the snip,
to pip the tip,
and baled the avail,
to the flailed snail.


Attract extract reenact,
saddle backed and subtracted,
the tact the pact
an unmistakable fact.


Swag the unsage,
the wage of the tutelage.
A coffee break
a bit of a cornflake
cupcaked the cake of the devil's flake.
Draked the fake fruitcake,
and hake the jake on the mellow lake.
Mistake the overtake.
A pancake sheik,
cried spake of a toothache.
Ack Ack!
Back, Bootblack Jack.
Pack the Pontiac rack,
 sack the Hackensack,
hijack the  leatherback.
Offtrack the outback,
rack the sack,
smack the stack,
stickleback the tictack track,
to the umiak Union Jack.


Twack the whack yak sack,
A mystical one eyed zodiac.
 Bready a speedy,
deedy the weedy,
Reedy to leedy.
Unheedy indeedy.


Leda, Vida, Theda.
Sketched an etch,
itched a hatch.
So speechless,
breathless,
toothless.
The socialist,
the communist,
the theorist
the terrorist.
Bedded the bedding
in a dreadful beheading.
Weeded the weed,
leading the lead,
tended the teed.


The ready read,
the reedy reeded.
The seedy seeded.




The end is Ending.
© Amra Cau  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Verse

The Trap

If I were a mountain lion
I would've been wary and wise
back turned safely to the wall
watching with careful eyes

I would've been cautious, cagey
and on the lookout for lies
but instead I trusted blindly
and fell for your disguise

You were my blood relation
a tie that was said to bind
but when I hit my lowest low
you were the most unkind

You used me when convenient
drained resources, energy
exploited my better nature
and got the best of me

When others acted cruelly
telling lies and tearing me down
instead of you defending me
you disowned me all over town

You were the most insidious
sneaky, snarky snipe
proving true the back-stabbing
best-friend stereotype

But, at last I found you out
your cover fully blown
I watched you fall in your own trap
and left you there alone
Form: Rhyme

Glen's Terrible Loss

He left home to pursue his lifetime dream,
it was closer to midnight and the foggy moon had no gleam;
I saw him rushing out to the taxi-cab by dragging his luggage,
all the while he thought he could manage.


His name was Glen, six feet tall with light brown hair...
the handsomest guy in town with elegance and flair;
he drove all the girls crazy, but sad was to see him go...
they all waited for him outside as he fled into tomorrow. 


He worked for a law firm in downtown Manhattan,
and won many cases getting him lots of praises;
he bought a Lamburghini and was considered the toast of town,
but to keep up his status quo he needed more money to pay those bills.


Alaska was his destination, no big deal for a white man
used to cold weather and hard work anywhere he went;
stereotype or not he was proud and really wanted that job,
but going out to sea and catch fish wasn't somehow odd?


Glen spent two years in the land of coyotes and bears,
too often he got frostbite for not covering his ears;
his fair skin turned red, his green eyes teared...
as he remembered all the things his mother feared.


Money kept coming in, but his health wasn't as vibrant...  
he coughed a lot and sneezed when the harsh Nordic wind blew
as he dreamed of his warm home while mom cooked beef stew;
many thoughts ran through his depressed mind, once so jubilant.


On May eleven of two thousand ten when the Northern Sea didn't rage,
he received a text message, " Mother is sick, hurry home. " 
He changed his work clothes, took a shower and went to Anchorage
to take the next plane to New York City as noise harmed his lobe.


By her hospital bed, he stood holding her cold hand,
and he wept not able to hold back his tears,
 " I am back, mom...I'll make up for those lost years. "
She squeezed his rough hand, then suddenly expired.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Chic-A-Chatting

I am going to write a funny poem
Why?  Because I feel like it
Why do you go the extra mile?
Great waistline my friend
C'mon
I love watching "Impractical Jokers"
Why?  They are so outrageous and daring
Something I wouldn't do
Not lol
How would you like it if everything you say 
makes people laugh?
I don't think you would enjoy it
Because you don't know if they laugh with you
Or at you
I am a couch potato
Is anyone like me?
I don't want to do nothing
I just want to sit on my recliner and chill
Until I get my fill 
I just can't get over how funny God is
He makes some of us like dark meat 
and some of us like white meat
I am talking about chicken, mind you
Just think how wasteful it would be if all of us like dark meat
Or white meat
This way nothing goes wasted
Why do you think I am attracted to you?
God my friend 
He puts something in you that causes something in me pulled lol
Yeah He has a sense of humor
I can sit here all day and talk about how funny God is
Why do you think some birds think of dancing for their mates?
Do you think it can just think of it?
Or do you think God is behind it?
Yeah you too
You would dance for your mate if you have a chance
And make a fool out of yourself
You don't care
Because it's called love
Ohhh
I could swear they put something in my Coke
Why do you think I have to have a Coke each day
Yeah it's no good
It's addicting
I think it's the sugar
Or the caffeine
Whatever it is, it is pulling me
to McDonald's
Got to stay away from that place
I am becoming a kid all over again
We had a celebration at work
to celebrate "Black History"
I am telling you
I admire the achievements they have done
and know they may have more to come
Just think how many obstacles they have overcome
Can you do it?
Talk about resilience
Endurance, strength, and so much more
Don't let the stereotype blinds you
See my friend
You look better that way
Anyway I will leave you for now
But hang on to my words, will ya
You'll need it
Haha

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